


Beautiful Butterfly

by YuMe89



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mild Language, at least it's fictional, i don't know how to tag, one butterfly was harmed sorry, overuse of the word butterfly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:14:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23955175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YuMe89/pseuds/YuMe89
Summary: This was really just something I wrote today.So, fresh off the keys, if there are errors, please point them out to me. ^^
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	Beautiful Butterfly

**Author's Note:**

> This was really just something I wrote today.  
> So, fresh off the keys, if there are errors, please point them out to me. ^^

He has been sitting here, in front of his mothers grave for a few hours now, his ass already getting numb and the longer he stared at her name, the more it blurred and vanished.

Stiles had never been a quiet kid, never been stellar at sitting still for too long. Nowadays he had perfected it into an art. Sometimes he was so good at standing still, that everyone around him forgot he was even there, blending in with his surroundings.

He was never seen as the beautiful, cute child or teen. If you asked anyone but his parents at least. Of course every parent thought their child was the most perfect thing in the whole world.

_"Hyperactive Spazz."_

_"You're a waste of space, Stilinski!"_

He wasn't very popular either, to be honest. Most people tended to roll their eyes as soon as he started to talk. Huffing in annoyance or outright leave in the middle of a conversation.  
Their attitude never changed the fact that that what he said was true or held a distinct necessity to be heard.

It also never stopped Stiles from talking anyway. It was a bitch sometimes, when he played an online shooting game and someone kicked him out of their team. The only satisfaction he got was when he destroyed said team on his own. Shut up, he was no camper, it's called being a sniper.

But not everything could be fixed by killing. At least in the real world, that would get him in a lot of trouble. He should know, with his dad in law enforcement and being in College studying criminology. Not like he wanted to kill anyone in particular. Except, maybe Peter.

He was currently taken back by a memory several years ago. It was one of his mom, before she started to forget everything and everyone. He had just turned eight that summer and insects had picked his interest.

_"Mieczyslaw...my little Mischief, why are you crying?" she asked, crouching down, right in front of him. Her amber eyes searching for answers, just like his all the time. She carded her fingers through his hair in that heartbreakingly loving way only mothers were able to do._

_"It died." Stiles sniffed, tears streaming down his round cheeks, as he pushed the big jam glass towards her. The caterpillar he had found and kept with twigs and leaves had turned into a butterfly and lay now unmoving on the ground._

_Claudia took the glass from him and inspected it, clearly trying to find the cause of death. There were a bunch of different flowers in it, so he had obviously tried to feed it._

_"Honey, did you touch it?" she asked and Stiles looked at her with big glassy eyes._

_"Just once! I swear, I didn't poke it. I was careful, I swear. I wanted to pet it! It's so pretty." he rushed out, immediately biting his lip in shame. His mom told him not to and that they would let it free, once it broke out of it's cocoon. He had been too curious as it seemed and the butterfly had to pay for it._

_"Mischief, the wings of a butterfly are very fragile, they have a much harder time to fly when you do that. Please remember: Not every beautiful thing should be touched, no matter how much you want to." she told him and Stiles nodded weakly._

_"Now, stop crying, sweetheart, it was bound to happen anyway. Everyone dies eventually." she said, putting the glass down and taking him into her arms._

_"Really? Even you?" he asked, not understanding why his mom would ever die._

_"Yes, even me. But don't worry, not for a long time. We will cuddle millions of times until than." she reassured him, kissing his forehead._

_"Promise?"-"Promise. Now, let's bury Frank."_

He remembered laughing at the name his mom had given his butterfly and smiled. She broke her promise of course and Stiles was mad at her for lying when he was still a kid, not that he ever told anyone. Also, he researched everything on butterflies and came to the conclusion, that he might not have been at fault entirely back than. He did remember he barely touched it and was awed by the softness and the colorful powder it left on his fingertips.

Though, it did teach him a lesson, he tried his hardest to stick to. Stiles was keen to touch a lot of things, but he steered clear from those who were just so perfect it seemed unreal. Almost always being an outcast gave him a good opportunity to observe the people around him from afar.

Startled by his own tears rolling down his cheeks, he looked up and around. He hadn't cried in a long time, much less in public. He was still at the cemetery, sitting in the grass, but he wasn't alone anymore. Multiple rows from him, stood Derek, flowers in his hand.

Stiles knew it was the grave of his family, or better said the memorial, although he had never seen Derek here. He stood up and dusted his pants off. Seeing the older Werewolf got him thinking.

In a way, Derek was like that butterfly, only Kate had touched him and ruined his life and everyone's around him. Maybe that was, why Stiles tended to steer clear from him. He didn't want to taint him even further. Unsure of what to do, go over or leave, he just stood there, staring at Derek's back.

Of course he knew Stiles was there and turned slightly around, catching Stiles as he dried his cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt. Derek inclined his head just a bit, indicating him to come over.

Passing gravestones of people he had never known he came finally to a halt beside Derek. "Are you here often?" Stiles asked, unable to stand in silence with another human being. Much less with Derek.

Derek shook his head. "First time since the funeral," he laid the flowers down at the foot of the enormous dark and sleek gravestone with too many names on it. Every single one was written in a perfect flourish. "Got everyone their favorite flower." he continued lightly and Stiles looked down at the huge bouquet, swallowing against the sudden lump forming in his throat. Sometimes it was hard to grasp, that that had all been people Derek had loved dearly, being his pack and family.

Stiles spotted the sunflower immediately. "Whose favorite were the sunflowers?" he asked, curious, cause that's just who he was. It caused a silence, Stiles didn't feel comfortable with. Instantly regretting to have asked. The answer seemed to be hard for Derek and he felt sorry for being at fault for that.

"My moms. She liked that sunflowers tend to turn to each other, when they can't find the sun." it was the most in one go, Derek had ever said in his presence. He didn't look sad, more like remembering a fond memory.

"I think your mom and my mom would've hit it off big time. It were her favorites too, for the exact same reason," Stiles said and looked at Derek, catching his slight smile. "Imagine them being friends. A Stilinski-Hale fusion no one would be save from." he laughed, trying to lighten the mood, even though they were standing on a graveyard.

"You know, you remind me a lot of Laura. Her humor. That's why I tried so hard to hate and feel annoyed by you." Derek confessed suddenly and looked back to the headstone.

Stiles frowned, puzzled. "But you saved me all the time." it earned him a certain Look, that was supposed to explain it all. "Oh...yeah," he said, once it fell into place. Of course Derek would save someone who reminded him of his dead sister. "Does that mean you like me now?" a heavy sigh, paired with an eye roll answered him.

Stiles smiled and pushed his hands into his jeans pockets. Precaution, don't touch the pretty. "It's okay, Sourwolf, I like you too."

This time the silence wasn't uncomfortable, while they stood side by side. Even though Stiles knew every name on that gravestone already, he read them again and again. Most of them died so young it broke his heart.

When Derek started to head to the parking lot, he grabbed Stiles arm while passing him to make him follow. They probably made a funny picture for people around them. Stiles just tried not to fall face first into the gravel and Derek walked on like nothing could stop him. Well, Stiles surely wouldn't be able to, if the Werewolf was to make his best Terminator impression right now.

"Pizza. My treat." Derek said eventually, ignoring Stiles shocked and gaping face.

"Sweet." he said, once he collected and sorted his tumbling thoughts again. Free pizza was the best pizza. And a poor College student wouldn't let that opportunity slide.

So, maybe you shouldn't touch beautiful things, but no one said you couldn't wait until they touched you. From time to time, butterflies choose to land on people voluntarily.

**Author's Note:**

> Heya!  
> Would be happy about a feedback.  
> Thanks for reading :)


End file.
